Do people really change? It's a question that I've found myself thinking about a lot lately. I've seen people appear to get "better" or "worse", at least in my eyes, but when I really think about it, I wonder if what I'm seeing is the symptoms, and not the actual disease. Alcoholics may stop drinking, and they may even manage to never drink again, but are they not still alcoholics? And whatever triggered that alcoholism, do they ever really leave that behind?
Thankfully, I've never had any problems with alcohol (at least not in my mind), but I have plenty of demons of my own. I'm trying to conquer a few of them now, some internal and some external, but even if I win, they will all leave their scars, which I expect to carry for the rest of my life. And I will always carry the fear that those demons might one day return.
I think we're all a little broken in our own ways, even those who seem like they have everything in order. There is no perfect balance, no lasting harmony in life. That may sound pessimistic, but I think it's realistic. Finding balance is a noble goal, one which I share even accounting for my disbelief, because while I may not think it is actually possible, getting close would be better than missing completely. Giving up is tantamount to giving up on finding happiness.
This has turned very abstract and incoherent. I don't know if I'll slay my demons. I'm not even sure whether that is all entirely within my control. Asking for help is not a strength of mine, but even if it was I don't know if I know anyone at the moment who can give me what I need. I'll manage, as I always have -- this is far from the end of the world -- and I'll keep striving to be better. But late at night, the doubt always seems to creep in. Time to go to sleep, I suppose.